


What Happened In Vegas

by Ltleflrt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Las Vegas Wedding, M/M, Photographer Castiel, Sam/eileen - Freeform, Secret Relationship, Sharing a Bed, Switch Castiel, Switch Dean, Teacher Dean, deancastropefest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 13:08:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12013404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ltleflrt/pseuds/Ltleflrt
Summary: Long time friends Dean and Castiel are road tripping from Chicago to San Diego for Sam and Eileen’s wedding, and a pitstop in Las Vegas turns into drunken love confessions and a surprise marriage.  Turns out the pining has been mutual this whole time, but now they’re finally together and on cloud-fucking-nine.  Until they remember that this trip isn’t supposed to be about them.To avoid undermining Sam and Eileen’s important weekend, they decide to keep their new relationship status a secret.  They’ll keep the heart eyes toned down and their hands to themselves, but the struggle is real.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Look I wrote something less than 100k! And I'm so glad, because I am really excited to participate in the DeanCas Tropefest!
> 
> First of all, a HUGE thank you to [Dreymart](http://dreymart.tumblr.com/) for the - quite frankly - gorgeous art. It was an immense pleasure working with and getting to know her. I feel blessed by good fortune that she picked my story :D [Here's the art masterpost!](http://dreymart.tumblr.com/post/165040831339/its-finally-time-to-post-i-had-so-much-fun/%22)
> 
> Special thanks to my bestie and beta [JupiterJames](http://jupiterjames.tumblr.com/), for putting up with my whining when I was frustrated, bouncing in excitement with me when everything was going smoothly, and basically helping me wrangle a silly idea into an actual story. As with most of my stories, this one probably wouldn't exist if she weren't such a fantastic cheerleader (and occasionally strict editor).

 

Three muffled knocks followed by a friendly announcement of “Housekeeping!” isn’t quite enough by itself to wake Dean since it’s not his own door, but when it’s repeated, his eyes crack open.  The room is pitch black except for the faint red glow of the clock on the bedside table and a thin crack of pale light between the heavy drapes.  

The arm resting heavy over his waist shifts, a broad palm sliding from his stomach up to his chest.  The voice that rumbles against the back of his neck is barely more than a croak.  “Do we need to get up?”

For about three seconds, Dean feels completely disconnected from his surroundings.  He can’t fathom why he’s not alone in bed, and that he’s in bed with _Castiel._

But then he wakes up a little more and the memories of the night before come crashing back in.  Flowers everywhere.  Elvis giving his pronouncement with flourish of his arm, and a waggle of his hips.  Castiel’s sunshine grin as Dean leans in to kiss him, their teeth clicking because they can’t stop smiling and laughing.  Stumbling out onto the strip.  Hands with matching gold glinting in the neon lights moving all over each other, slipping under clothes and clutching tight.  Falling into a single bed together for the first time as a couple.

He grins, and in a move that is half stretch and half roll, he turns onto his back so that he can get a look at the man that’s plastered against him.  All he can see is the shadow of Castiel’s hair against his forehead, and the reflection of the light from the window in Castiel’s eyes.  It’s enough to guide him in for a kiss, although he misses slightly, connecting with the edge of his mouth instead of his lips, but Castiel tilts his head so that they can kiss properly.

They both have some gnarly morning breath going on, but Dean is too giddy to care.

The muffled knocking abates.  Their neighbor across the hall either abandoned the room, or the maid moved on to the next one.  

Castiel pulls back and Dean can just make out the white of his teeth in the darkness when he smiles.  His voice is still sandpaper rough when he speaks.  “Hello, Dean.”

“Mornin’, Cas.” Dean’s own voice is guttural, and his throat is scratchy and dry.  “Ugh, I sound like I smoked a pack last night.”

“You probably did. Vicariously.” Castiel stretches against him, his legs sliding against Dean’s and his toes nudging at Dean’s ankles teasingly.  

“Fuckin’ casinos anyway,” Dean mutters.  “Why can’t they make people go outside to smoke, like civilized people?”

Castiel nuzzles against Dean’s shoulder.  “Because they don’t want people to stop gambling long enough for a smoke break.”

“Bunch'a damn sharks.”

“Mmhm.”

They both fall silent.  Dean hears a shower start up in the room next door, and he wonders that if they'd splurged on a more expensive hotel, the walls would be thick enough to drown out the ambient sounds of other guests so he could still be sleeping.  But then he wouldn’t be awake to hear Castiel’s stomach grumble, and to feel the scratch of morning stubble against his shoulder.  

“Hey, Cas?”

“Hm?”

The sleepy sound makes Dean’s heart trot around inside his chest, and he doesn’t even bother to try reining it in.  “Last night wasn’t a dream, right?”

It’s a dumb question.  They’re naked in bed together, right?  And his muscles have the satisfied ache of the recently laid.  But a drunk night of sex isn’t the only thing he remembers.  And he wants _all_ of it to be real.

Castiel doesn’t answer right away.  Instead he pushes himself up onto an elbow and looks down at Dean.  It’s too dark for Dean to see much, so Castiel must be nearly blind too.  Especially since he would have taken his glasses off before they fell into bed, so he’s got blurry vision as well of lack of light working against him.  But Dean can still feel the hefty weight of his stare.

“Do you want it to be a dream?”  Castiel’s voice is neutral, but Dean has known him for fifteen years, and he can hear nuances that most people wouldn’t.  

He lifts his hand, cognizant of the gold band on his finger, and cups Castiel’s cheek.  “God no,” he whispers.  “I want it to be real.”

A whoosh of air expels itself from Castiel’s lips, and he leans down and kisses Dean hard.  It’s not sexy at all, but the pressure of it conveys Castiel’s relief at Dean’s answer.  And Dean realizes he’s not the only one who was worried about how this morning would go.  

Castiel lifts his head and his fingers brush against Dean’s temple.  “It was real, Dean.  We got married.”

“By a fat Elvis, right?”  Dean was kinda drunk, but he’s mostly sure he wasn’t so drunk that his imagination made that up.

Castiel chuckles.  “Yes, just like you wanted.  It was _so_ romantic.”

When Dean remembers Castiel’s smiles and laughter as they repeated wedding vows spoken in a corny Elvis impersonator’s accent, he has to agree it was completely romantic.  Maybe not in the conventional way, but in a way that he’ll remember for the rest of his life.  Even if some of the details are blurred by alcohol.  

“I can’t believe you let me talk you into that,” Dean admits with a grin.

The blankets rustle and Dean yelps when Castiel suddenly surges over him, straddling his hips and caging Dean between his arms.  He looks up into Castiel’s shadowed eyes, and wishes the damn lamp was on so he could see his expression.  

Castiel leans down and nuzzles Dean as he speaks.  “You popped the question.  I wasn’t going to say no to anything, just in case you misinterpreted my acceptance.”

Heat rises up in Dean’s cheeks because Castiel knows him so damn well.  He reaches up and cups Castiel’s cheeks.  “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“You have nothing to make up for.  You’re all I need.”

“Fuck,” Dean breathes out.  “I love you.”

“I love you too, Dean.”

And then they’re kissing again.  The stale breath fades, as well as the lethargy left over from a night of overindulgence.  Dean’s hips rock up and he groans when his growing erection glides against the cleft of Castiel’s ass.  His hands slip from Castiel’s face, to his shoulders, down his sides, until he can grip the firm muscles and spread them open.  He’s dreamed of this ass since college, and now he gets to touch it, to fuck it.

Castiel moans and arches his back, pushing into Dean’s hands.  

“How you feelin’, Cas?” Dean murmurs between kisses.  

“Sore,” Castiel answers.  “But not _too_  sore.”

Dean edges his fingers lower until they’re pressing against Castiel’s hole.  “You sure?”

“Oh yeah.” Castiel rocks back against Dean’s touch.  “ _Very_  sure.”

Their mouths connect again, and Dean continues to press at Castiel’s hole without slipping inside.  The puckered skin is warm and soft, and Dean could play with Castiel’s ass for hours, but Cas has other ideas if the whimpers and hitched breaths mean anything.  Or the way he starts grinding his hips in small circles, alternately rubbing his leaking cock against Dean’s stomach and pressing back against Dean’s fingers.

“Is there lube hiding around here somewhere?” Dean murmurs against Castiel’s lips.

Cas sits up on Dean’s lap, and starts patting the rumpled covers around them.  “There fuckin’ better be,” he grumbles.  “That was a brand new bottle.”

Chuckling at Castiel’s fervent search, Dean grasps Castiel’s dick and starts stroking him.  It distracts his husband from his search, and his head falls back on his shoulders.  His long sigh of pleasure sends little sparks of excitement through Dean’s groin.  “Why did you pack a new bottle of lube, Cas?”

Castiel’s hips buck up.  “I didn’t.  We stopped at a CVS, remember?”

Vaguely Dean remembers giggling against Castiel’s shoulder in the harshly lit drug store while they discussed their favorite lubes and condoms.  They’d done a few things at the cash register that made the clerk blush, but she’d also told them they were a cute couple as she bagged their fresh supplies.

“Oh yeah,” Dean says on a laugh.  “Poor girl.”

“She looked like she was enjoying the show.” Castiel doesn’t sound sorry at all for her plight. He leans far to the side, nearly falling off Dean’s lap, and turns on the bedside lamp, revealing his glasses which he immediately perches on his nose before looking around them again.  He straightens up with a triumphant shout, brandishing a bottle.

He’s so damn cute with his ruffled hair and his glasses sitting crooked on his face, and Dean’s heart feels like it’s going to outgrow his chest.  This is _his husband._

Castiel clicks the bottle open and pours some of the slick fluid over his fingers before leaning down over Dean and reaching between his legs to open himself up.  Dean is a little disappointed that he doesn’t have a good view of his husband’s fingers fucking and stretching his hole, but he can’t look away from Castiel’s gaze.  Behind the thick rims of his glasses, his eyes are shadowed with lust and love, and Dean’s getting that expanding feeling in his chest again.

“Cas,” he breathes as he reaches up to pull him down for another kiss.  He wants to memorize the tiny sound Castiel makes when their lips touch.

Although now that they’re married, he’ll hopefully get to hear it over and over again.

Castiel’s body shifts over him.  He lays down on Dean’s chest, clutching at his shoulders, one hand still slick with lube.  

“You ready, sweetheart?” Dean asks between kisses.

“Fuck me, Dean.”

No need to tell him twice.  With one hand clamped on Castiel’s neck to hold him in place, Dean reaches past Castiel’s thigh and grips himself, guiding his cockhead to Castiel’s entrance.  It slides through hair made silky by lube, and bumps up against his hole.  Dean rubs his cockhead around it, teasingly pushing in just enough that he feels the muscle give way before backing off and tracing circles around it.  He repeats the motions, tormenting both of them until Castiel bites Dean’s bottom lip and growls.

Finally, Dean pushes in, and they both groan.  

Their hips roll together, but the angle isn’t quite right.  Castiel wrenches free of Dean’s grip, and sits up, sinking even further down on his cock.  And oh yeah, that’s _much better._

Dean grips Castiel’s thighs and holds on for dear life while Castiel rocks on top of him, arching his back and letting out breathy sounds of pleasure.  He plays with one of his nipples, and shoves two fingers in his mouth, sucking and licking at them, and putting on a magnificent show.  Castiel is the photographer, but right now Dean wishes he was holding a camera.

When Dean feels his orgasm start to building toward its crest, he lets go of one of Castiel’s thighs and fists his cock.  “Yeah, baby,” he mutters as Castiel’s movements go wild, fucking into Dean’s hand, and down on his dick.  “Ride that cock, sweetheart.  Wanna see you come all over me.”

Castiel stops pinching his nipple, and buries his fingers in his own hair, fisting it tight.  Dean hopes he’s got enough blood running his brain cells that he’ll remember Cas has a hair pulling kink after they’re done, because _hell yeah_.  

Imagining his own fingers in Castiel’s hair, twisting and pulling while Dean pounds into him sends him over the edge with a shout.  His grip tightens around the Castiel’s cockhead, and then Cas is coming, semen seeping through Dean’s fingers to drip down on his belly.  Castiel rides him through both of their orgasms, until they’re both milked dry.  And then with a harsh sob, he collapses forward onto Dean’s chest.  

Dean wraps an arm around his shoulders and holds him tight.  He never wants to let go.

Head still buzzing, and chest still heaving from exertion, Dean tilts his head and looks at the clock.  He glares at it for moving much faster than he wants it to.  With a groan, he shakes Castiel.  “Dude, we gotta get up.  Checkout is in less than an hour and I want a shower before we go.”

Castiel grumbles but rolls off and uses the momentum to carry himself off the bed in a move that’s so damn sexy that Dean wishes he could get it up again already.  But then Castiel scratches his butt in a far less attractive movement as he makes his way toward the bathroom.  It’s not sexy, but it’s cute as hell, and Dean’s heart swells with love for his new husband.

“I need a greasy breakfast.  Do you think the buffet is still open?” Castiel flips on the bathroom light, and turns to squint at Dean.  “Are you coming?”

Hell yeah he is.  Despite sore muscles and his mild hangover, Dean bounds off the bed and hurries to join Castiel.  He’s been dreaming of seeing him in the shower since they were freshmen in college, and he’s not going to miss the opportunity now.  “If not, we can stop at a Jack in the Box or something."

"Deal."  Castiel turns on the water and tests the temperature with his fingers.  "How hot do you want this?"  He looks over his shoulder and catches Dean ogling his ass and grins.  "Are we even going to make it out of here in time?"

Dean's first reaction is to jerk his eyes away from all those miles of tan skin with the intriguing tan lines and apologize, but then he remembers that he's allowed to look.  And touch.  He returns Castiel's smile and smacks him lightly on the flank.  "Maybe not if you keep flaunting this pretty ass."

Castiel's delighted laugh makes Dean feel ten feet tall and ten years younger.  He flicks water at Dean before stepping into the tub.  "Get _your_ pretty ass in here."

It's an easy order to obey, and Dean gets in and pulls the curtain closed.  Castiel switches on the shower head and steam quickly surrounds them.  The spray is mostly blocked by Castiel's body, but what reaches Dean is scorching hot.

"Ok?" Castiel asks.

"Perfect," Dean responds.  He pushes Castiel further into the spray so more of it reaches him as well.  And because Castiel is _right there_ Dean leans in to kiss the smile off his face.

It doesn't take long for hands to start wandering and more than just the water starts to get heated.  Dean is just about to say fuck making checkout on time when Castiel breaks the kiss.  "Dean, we need to hurry."

"Right, right, ok."  With a huff, Dean reaches for the little plastic wrapped bar of soap and peels it open.  He builds suds up between his hands and rubs them over Castiel's chest instead of his own.

They make it out of the room on time, but only just barely.

They decide to forgo the buffet and go through a drive through on their way out of Vegas.  The scent of fatty fried food is swept out of the car through the partially rolled down windows, and Zeppelin blasts through the speakers as Dean pulls the Impala onto I-15 and starts the final leg of their journey to San Diego.

As Dean munches through his fries, he keeps glancing at Castiel.  The wind ruffles his dark hair, and his jaw is lined with thicker stubble than normal since they decided to skip shaving that morning to save time.  Despite the ever present thick rimmed glasses, he looks like less of a nerd than usual because he's traded his usual work suits for an oversized AC/DC t-shirt, faded, holey jeans, and ratty sneakers that look like they should have been thrown out ages ago.  

He looks like a damn hippie, and Dean thinks he's sex on a stick.  Although, the sharp business suits he usually wears are just another kind of sexy that has made Dean's mouth water for years.

Castiel takes another bite of his burger and when he lowers it, ketchup is smeared across the side of his mouth, making Dean grin at the sight.  There's his nerd.  And that's when Castiel turns to look back at him.  His eyebrows arch over the rim of his glasses, and he talks around the food in his mouth.  "What?"

Dean turns his gaze back to the road, but his wide smile stays firmly in place.  He wipes salt and oil coated fingers against his jeans and reaches out to turn down the music so they can hear each other over the wind.  “Dude.  We're married.”

He can hear the smile in Castiel's voice.  “Yes, we are.”

Bubbles of joy rise up in Dean's chest, breaking free of his throat as delighted laughter.  He looks back at Castiel and sees his happiness mirrored there.  Castiel's grin is made crooked by the smudge of ketchup, and Dean is fucking giddy about it.  He drums his hands against the steering wheel in a fast tattoo just to siphon off a little bit of the energy created by his excitement.  “We're _married,_ Cas!”

Castiel laughs at his antics and finally reaches for a napkin to wipe his mouth.  “I'm a little amazed about it, too.”

“Just a little?”

“Ok yes, that's an understatement,” Castiel says with another laugh.

“Fuck, I can't wait to tell everyone.  Sam is going to shit himself.”  His grin widens when he imagines Sam's reaction to the news.  Especially since the little fucker lectured him about appropriate behavior around the bridesmaids the last time they talked.  Like Dean doesn't know how to behave himself.  And besides, he and Cas were planning on sharing a room to save money anyway.  

“Dean.”  

The worried tone in Castiel's voice pulls Dean's attention away from the road.  “What?”

“I don’t want to tell anyone.”

“ _What?_ ”  Dean repeats.  Castiel's wide eyes and downturned lips make his heart pound and a little voice in the back of his head starts whispering about drunken mistakes, and annulments and divorces.  His eyes dart back to the road.  If Castiel is about to tell him they shouldn't get anyone's hopes up over a temporary marriage, he doesn't want to see the rejection in Castiel's eyes.  “Why not?”

The paper wrapping of Castiel's burger crinkles and then his hand is a warm weight on Dean's shoulder.  “I just mean that we can't say anything until after Sam and Eileen's wedding.  They've put a lot of time and effort into this, and if we announce our marriage right away, it'll take attention away from them.  This is their special weekend.”

Tension drains from Dean's muscles, but the aftermath of his near panic leaves him shaky with relief.  He hides it behind a pout.  “Yeah I guess we shouldn't steal their thunder.  Kinda sucks that we have to wait though.”

Castiel chuckles and briefly massages Dean's shoulder before releasing him.  “I agree, but we probably should have thought of that before we went to a twenty-four hour chapel and said ‘I Do’ in front of Elvis.”

“I guess if that's the worst consequence related to a drunk surprise Vegas wedding, I can deal.”

“Yes,” Castiel intones.  “Imagine if you'd stumbled in there with a stripper instead.”

And just like that, the last of Dean's worries dissolve.  He's married to the man he loves.  In a few days he's going to watch his little brother marry the woman of his dreams.  And in the meantime he gets to visit with old friends and hang out on the beach.  Life is fucking fantastic.

"The sex last night probably have would been bendier," he teases.

"Fuck you," Castiel counters.

"Should I pull over?  I think the back seat's big enough for that if you wanna."

Castiel throws his head back for a full bellied laugh.  "I don't think either of us is _that_ bendy."

Dean shrugs and casts a teasing smile at his husband.  "Won't know till we try."

"Hmm, good point."  Castiel tilts his head thoughtfully, but his eyes glint wickedly behind his glasses.  Then he lifts his burger to his mouth and takes a big bite.  His cheeks bulge obscenely when he speaks, and his words are garbled.  "M'be after lunch."

"Yeah, eat up, sweetheart."  Dean reaches for the radio knob and cranks it back up.  He raises his voice to be heard over the music .  "You'll need the calories."

Castiel laughs at the thinly veiled threat.  

Dean’s cheeks are beginning to ache from grinning so hard.  He’s so goddamn happy that he feels like the Impala could catch air any second and fly up off the road.

But at the same time, happier than he ever remembers being in his life, he’s also amazed at how normal it feels to just be driving down the freeway, Castiel at his side.  The weight of the ring on his finger is different, but the music is the same.  So is the smell of fast food, and the roar of the wind.  Everything should have changed, but it’s all very much the same.  

It’s fucking awesome.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The door to their room isn't even shut all the way before Dean faceplants on the bed.  He groans into the soft surface.  "I can't believe I'm gonna say this," he mumbles into the comforter, "but I don't wanna drive again for a while."

Castiel chuckles, and the mattress sinks as he joins him.  "Should I be calling 911?"

Dean turns his head to the side so he can breathe easier, and also so he can just look at his husband.  Castiel is on his stomach too, close enough that their shoulders touch.  His glasses are pushed sideways on his face by the mattress, making one eye look slightly bigger than the other, and he grins when their eyes meet.  It's impossible not to smile back.  Not that Dean bothers resisting.  They've been married for less than twenty-four hours, and Dean is deeply entrenched in the honeymoon phase.

He's been waiting forever for this, so sue him if he's stoked.

"Maybe if I haven't changed my mind by tomorrow."

Castiel wiggles a little closer.  "I'll bet you'll be ready to get back behind the wheel after we use that coupon."

Their original reservation had been for a room with two queen beds since they hadn't planned on falling into bed with each other, much less on tying the knot on the way here.  But due to some minor mix up, their reservation got changed to a king sized bed, and due to two weddings booked at the hotel on the same weekend, plus some local convention, the place is packed and their options are limited. Pure fucking kismet as far as Dean is concerned, but the hotel offered them some discount coupons for spa services in apology.

Dean's not a spa guy (don't listen to anyone's lies to the contrary) but he's not gonna say no to a cheap massage on top of a bigger bed to fuck his new husband in.

"Fuck yeah, we're definitely doing that before we go home."

Which will probably be Castiel’s condo since it’s bigger and has a nice view of the city.  They haven't discussed the home situation yet, but technically it's their honeymoon so Dean isn't going to bring it up.  And Castiel seems to be of the same mind since he doesn't comment on it either.  Instead he moves even closer to Dean, forcing them to shift onto their sides.  He tucks his knee between Dean's which has the nice side effect of pressing his thigh against his crotch.

Or maybe that was his actual goal, since his eyes glint wickedly at Dean's soft moan and he rubs his thigh a little more firmly against the growing situation in Dean's pants.  "I could give you a massage right now for free if you want," he growls.

"Does it come with a happy ending?" Dean asks with a grin.  He rolls his hips forward, humping against Castiel's leg.  He feels like a horny teenager, and it's awesome.

"Of course," Castiel agrees before leaning in to catch Dean's lips with his own.

Most.  Definitely.  Dean is up for it, and he means that completely euphemistically.

Castiel rolls Dean onto his back and straddles his hips.  His hands cup Dean's face, holding him in place while he plunders Dean's mouth with his tongue.  Not that Dean would try to get away because Castiel is a _really_ good kisser.  He makes him feel owned and consumed and Dean really wishes he'd given in to the drunken urge to make out with Castiel way back when they were freshman sneaking booze into their dorm room.  Or any of the million times over the years he's looked at Castiel's lips and wondered what they'd feel like against his own.

He's missed out on knowing the answer is _fan-fucking-tastic_ for way too long.

Well now he's got a lifetime to make up for all those missed opportunities.

A knock on the door makes him groan into Castiel's mouth, and he tries to hold him in place, but Castiel overpowers his attempts with a laugh and sits up.  "Dean, the door."

Dean tugs at Castiel's arms.  "They'll go away if we ignore 'em."

The casual strength Castiel uses to resist Dean's efforts to drag him back on top of him is damn sexy, even if it's also frustrating.  "Or we can get our bags real quick and then we'll have clean clothes to change into after I fuck you into the mattress."

Dean twists his lips into a thoughtful pout, and gives the suggestion some consideration.  "Ok yeah, that sounds good."

"You're hot when you're reasonable." Castiel leans in for a quick peck on the lips before he rolls off the bed and out of Dean's reach.  He grins wickedly as he pushes a hand down the front of his pants to adjust himself.  "Stay there, I'll be right back."

Dean eyes Castiel's hand under his fly, and licks his lips.  "I ain't going anywhere."

He rubs his half hard dick through his jeans and imagines all the filthy things he wants to do in this nice big king sized-

"Sam! Hi!"

Dean jerks his hand away from his dick and quickly sits up.  Just in time too, because Castiel actually lets Sam into the room.  Not that he has much choice since Sam practically engulfs him in a giant moose hug.  He spares a second to silently thank Castiel for suggesting they take off their rings before they got out of the car, because Sam can be far too observant for his own good sometimes, and the little gold bands would be a dead giveaway.

"Hey, guys!" Sam is all cheerful smiles as he saunters in after letting Castiel go.

And despite Dean's exhaustion, sexual frustration, and mild panic that his and Castiel's secret almost got caught out so fast, Sam is a sight for sore eyes.  Dean bounces up from the bed and rushes Sam, crushing him in a tight hug.  "Sammy!  Man, it's good to see you."

Sam's arms are just as tight around Dean, and his voice wavers slightly.  "Yeah it is.  I've missed you."

Over Sam's shoulder, Dean sees Castiel's affectionate smile.  His husband stands back, content to let the brothers have their moment.  He's been a part of the family for a long time, and he knows how close Dean and Sam are.

Dean appreciates that the unexpected and lightning fast transition from best friends to husbands hasn't suddenly turned Castiel into the jealous lover type.  There have been plenty of romantic partners in Dean's life that seemed to think they deserved a larger share of Dean's affection once they became serious, and wanted some of that transferred from Sam to them.

It's not until now, with Castiel beaming at them, that Dean realizes that he was worried about this moment, and whether Cas might feel the same.  Even though Castiel has never shown any sort of resentment towards Sam for being number one on Dean's list of favorite people.

The truth is that there are two people sharing that spot on that list, and now Dean is married to one of them.

How did he get so damn lucky?

"I missed you too, Sammy."  Dean's voice is gruff with too much emotion held in check, and not all of it is from the highly anticipated reunion with his brother.  He forces himself to loosen his grip and pull back.  "How'd you know where to find us? We just got here."

"Cas texted me when you guys checked in."

Dean resists the urge to demand why Castiel would do that, since he had to have known Sam would rush to see them.  He would have done it himself if he hadn't been aching to lie down after half a day driving.  Besides, the plan had been to rest for a bit, not to get handsy.

"I would have given you guys some time to settle in, but..." he trails off with a shy grin and a shrug, and Dean doesn't need him to finish the thought because he gets it.  

Hell, he's so happy to see Sam that he's not even annoyed that he interrupted Dean and Castiel's fooling around.

"Don't worry about it, Sammy."

It's a sign of how happy Sam is to see him that he doesn't correct Dean about the nickname.  He just grins and glances around.  "So what do you guys think of the hotel-" he cuts off when he sees the bed, his expression morphing into stricken worry.  "Oh shit, didn't they have any rooms with two beds?  I know they've had a few problems with their bookings this weekend, but if you guys are uncomfortable with the room we can-"

Dean doesn't know what Sam thinks he can do besides raise a stink, and he doesn't care because he _wants_ this room.  His mind races for an excuse other than "I need the bigger bed so I can fuck my husband nine ways from Sunday in ALL the positions", but Castiel solves the problem before either Winchester can really get started on it themselves.  He interrupts Sam with a touch on the arm and a smile.  

"It's not a big deal, Sam.  We already asked if there were other options, but anything they could do would inconvenience another guest, and that's not necessary.  We'll be fine sharing for a few nights."  His eyes crinkle in a secret smile that doesn't touch his lips when he looks at Dean for backup.  "Right, Dean?"

Dean's grin might be a little too wide, but damn, he's relieved.  "Yeah, I can handle Cas' snoring up close and personal for a few nights."

Castiel scowls at him.  "I don't snore."

"Uh, yeah, you totally do," Dean counters.  He shoves Sam lightly to get him in on the teasing.  "Back me up, Sam."

Sam has been being dragged into their disagreements since before his voice dropped, so he should be used to it, but he still squirms and struggles to hold eye contact when Castiel's scowl turns on him.  "You kinda do, Cas."

"No, I don't."  

"Yeah, you do.  Remember when we were camping at lake Powell a couple summers ago?"

"I had a sinus thing."

"Well there was also that time when we all drove to New Orleans for Mardi Gras..."

Castiel's angry squint gets squintier.

It's adorable.   Dean has always shoved that observation as far into the cobwebbed recesses of his mind as possible.  It stubbornly resisted staying there, and has driven Dean to many drunk nights of morose pining, along with all the thousands of other cute things Castiel does that made falling in love with him inevitable.  But this time he doesn't have to ignore it, and he's really glad Sam's looking at Cas instead of him, because Dean can't stop his dopey lovestruck grin, and it would be a dead giveaway that something has changed between them.

By the time Castiel is huffing out an irritated concession that he _might occasionally_ snore, Dean manages to wrangle his expression into something less obviously twitterpated.  At least he thinks so since Sam doesn't give him weird looks - or worse, the third degree - when he turns back to Dean.

"Well I'm sorry you guys got stuck in the wrong room, but on the bright side, Eileen and I are right next door."  Sam gestures at the wall behind the bed's headboard.

In unison, Dean and Castiel turn to look at the wall before meeting each other's eyes.  Dean's hopes that the horror in their expressions isn't as bad as it feels are dashed when Sam starts laughing at them.

"Oh my god you guys, calm down.  Eileen and I agreed not to have any sex until after the wedding, so you won't hear anything inappropriate, I promise."

The flush rising up in Castiel's cheeks tells Dean that he's not the only one who hadn't been thinking about the sounds _they_ might _hear_.  Dammit, there goes Dean's plans for that king sized bed.  

Sam steamrolls over their reaction, thankfully oblivious to the real reasons behind it.  "So I know you guys are just getting in, but do you want to join me and Eileen for dinner?  Mildred, Jody, and Donna are going to be there, too."

"Do you really want us to come, or are you trying to recruit so you're not the only guy at the table?"  Dean teases.  It comes out a little weak since his mind is still racing through possible arguments to take to the hotel staff to talk them into moving him to a new room.  Massage coupon be damned.

"Of course I want you guys there."  Sam's bitchface is ruined by the smile tugging at his lips.  "But some back up would also be nice."

Dean laughs, and it doesn't even sound forced, and slaps Sam on the arm.  "Alright, alright, we'll come protect you from the ladies.  Do we have time to clean up first since we've been in the car all day?"

"Yeah there's time."  Sam sniffs delicately and wrinkles his nose.  "And you definitely need to wash the road trip stink off."

"Rude, Sam, rude."

"He's not wrong though," Castiel interjects with a grin.

Dean presses a hand against his chest in mock offence, but his witty comeback is cut off by another knock at the door.

" _That's_ probably our bags," Castiel says.  He gives Dean a side-eyed look.  "Which we could have carried up ourselves."

"Your precious cameras are heavy, dude," Dean calls after him as he heads back for the door, but Castiel just huffs.

While Castiel greets the bell hop, Sam turns a concerned frown on Dean.  "You sure you guys are comfortable with the room?"

"Yeah, we're gonna be fine."  Dean waves a hand and hopes he sounds dismissive and not defensive.  "It's a big bed, so it's not like we'll have to cuddle."

They're definitely going to.  It's going to be awesome.  Sam and his sensitive ears won't take that away from them.

Castiel hovers over the luggage cart the hotel employee wheels in, his eyes flicking over the bags and his hands fluttering over them.  Seeing his worry over his camera equipment, Dean feels a twinge of guilt for handing the bags over to someone else to bring up to the room.  He’d only been thinking about the ache in his back, and had forgotten Castiel’s obsessive love for his - admittedly expensive - equipment.  

He makes up for the error now by not teasing Castiel about it for once, and opts instead to take care of tipping the bellhop and thanking him before sending him out of the room.  He turns back to see that Castiel has his camera bag open on the bed and is going through all his equipment to make sure that everything is still in its place.  Sam is at his side, and they’re already deep in discussion about the new lenses that Castiel has started using.

Dean sighs.  He’d really love to kick Sam out and drag Castiel into the shower with him, but he isn’t the only one who has missed Sam.  So he tries not to begrudge them their time together as he gathers some clean clothes from his bag and shuts himself into the bathroom.

He hurries through a shower since he’d taken one that morning, just soaping up pits and pubes and calling it good after a full body rinse.  A glance in the mirror as he’s toweling off shows that his scruff is even thicker than it was that morning but he doesn’t bother shaving.  He’ll worry about it on the wedding day.

When he emerges from the bathroom dressed and refreshed, Cas and Sam are still talking photography.  But Sam looks up at Dean with a start.  “I should get out of here and go find the girls.  Will you guys meet us at the restaurant?”

Castiel sets his camera back in its cushioned bag and moves to dig through his suitcase instead.  “We can do that.  It shouldn’t take us more than twenty minutes to get down there.”

“Perfect!” Sam claps his hands on his thighs and gets up from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed.  As Castiel slips past Dean into the bathroom for his own quick shower, Sam envelopes Dean in another hug.  “I’ll see you guys soon.”  

Dean forgets his disappointment in showering alone, and leans into his brother.  Living halfway across the country sucks.  He’s definitely going to have to try getting over his fear of flying so that he can visit more often.

After Sam leaves, Dean spends the next few minutes unpacking while Castiel showers.  He’s tempted to sneak in there with him, but if he gets even a glimpse of a naked and wet Castiel, he’s going to hop right in the shower with him and they’re not going to make it down to the restaurant in the twenty minutes Cas promised.  So he hangs up their suits in the closet, fills the dresser with socks and underwear and shirts and jeans and gets far too sentimental at the sight of their clothes next to each other.

They’ve shared a closet and a dresser before.  Both as roommates in small college rooms, and while sharing hotel rooms for vacations over the years.  But something about being _married_  and having their underwear right next to each other gives Dean a light and floaty feeling.

God, he’s such a sap.

When Castiel emerges from the bathroom he’s fully dressed, thank goodness, although his damp hair is spiked in all different directions which makes Dean want to run his fingers through it.  Only years of practice keeps him from doing so.  But at least now he’s allowed to look without having to hide the longing he feels.  “Hey there, handsome,” he says as Castiel walks toward him.

Castiel smiles, a bright thing that’s all teeth and gums and sparkling blue eyes.  “You think I’m handsome?”

Dean slips his arms around Castiel’s waist and pulls him in for a kiss.  He keeps it quick and chaste, because there’s a bed _right there_  and he’s doing his best to resist its siren call.  “Devastatingly handsome,” he murmurs.

A flush rises up in Castiel’s cheeks, and his smile turns shy.  He cups Dean’s jaw, and brushes the pad of his thumb over his cheek.  “I could say the same about you.”

There had been so many drunken confessions the night before.  Attraction and longing and secretly held love.  But a lot of it is still blurry thanks to the alcohol, so hearing some of those same things while sober goes a long way to silence the little voice in the back of his head whispering that he might have imagined some of it.  And Dean’s heart does a happy little tap dance inside his chest.  

This is real.  He gets to have this.  

“I love you,” he says, because he can.  Finally.

“I love you too,” Castiel sighs before leaning in for another kiss.

This one starts out simple, but quickly escalates.  It’s not long before Dean has forgotten why he shouldn’t keeping going, but luckily Castiel keeps some of his wits about him and breaks off with a gasp.  He holds Dean’s face, so he can’t lean in to continue the kiss, and laughs a little at Dean’s disappointed grunting.  “We need to go to dinner.”

Dean growls, but releases Castiel and takes a step back.  He runs a hand over his mouth, trying to fight the tingle in his lips, and the craving for more.  “Yeah yeah,” he mutters.  “Let’s get out of here before I change my mind and decide to have my way with you while Sam and Eileen aren't in their room.  Since they're _right next door."_

“We are going to have plenty of time for that," Castiel promises. Then adds with a grimace and a sigh, "I _hope."_   

At least Dean isn't the only one knocked off kilter by his disappointment.  It goes a long way to alleviate his grumpiness over sharing a wall with the people he's trying to keep his new relationship status from.  He reaches out and runs his hands over Castiel's shoulders and arms.  "We'll figure it out.  Where there’s a will, there's a way."

Castiel laughs.  "Exactly.  And trust me, there's definitely a will."

God he's hot.  "We could skip dinner," Dean suggests.

" _Dean_."  

"Alright, alright, I was just kidding."  He totally wasn't.  "Let's get out of here before I change my mind though."

After a too quick peck on the mouth, Castiel pulls away from Dean's touch.  He grabs his camera, hanging it around his neck with a strap, then zips up the bag.  He pats his pockets, making sure he’s got his phone and wallet, then smiles widely at Dean.  “Let’s go.”

Dean holds out a hand and his heart thuds happily when Castiel slips his hand against Dean’s palm.  They’ll have to stop touching before anyone sees them, but for the moment he’s going to enjoy holding his husband’s hand for as long as possible.


	3. Chapter 3

Dinner turns into an accidental party.  While they’re waiting for their drinks, more wedding guests arrive at the restaurant.  The waiters pull more tables together, and what started out with six turns to eight, then twelve.  To make more room, everyone scoots their chairs closer together until Dean and Castiel are practically on top of each other.  

Which wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary because impromptu parties are kind of a Winchester and Extended Family _thing,_ and no one in the group gives the two of them even a hint of a suspicious side eye.  But Castiel is very distinctly aware that the thigh pressed tightly against his own belongs to his _husband_ , and he’d very much like to have it and its bowed partner wrapped around his waist.  

He’s survived many years lusting after Dean.  Too many.  He’s good at pretending nonchalance.  But now that he doesn’t have to hide his feelings from Dean, it feels nearly impossible to hide them from everyone else.  

It’s especially difficult with Dean sneaking occasional touches under the table, and casually draping his arm across the back of Castiel’s chair.  Everything is perfectly innocent, except that when their eyes meet, Castiel sees the promise in Dean’s gaze.

His only consolation is that if they get caught, it’ll probably be Dean’s fault.

By the end of dinner, he’s reasonably sure no one noticed anything odd.  Although Mildred does give him a look that might be a flirtation, or might be a knowing smirk.  He’s not sure, but he hopes if it’s the latter, she realizes there’s a secret to be kept and doesn’t mention anything.

They walk upstairs with Sam and Eileen, saying goodnight at the door to their room.  And it’s such a relief to have some privacy that Castiel slumps against Dean, burying his face in Dean’s shoulder and relishing the strength of his arms when they come around him in a hug.

“That was… an adventure,” Dean murmurs against Castiel’s hair.

“It would have been easier if you hadn’t been groping me under the table,” Castiel points out.

Dean chuckles.  “Yeah, my bad.  I couldn’t resist.”

“I forgive you.”  Castiel sighs, but it’s just a release of tension held too long, not an expression of any upset on his part.  “So what now?”

Dean shrugs.  “Dude, I’m beat.  I vote for cuddling and crappy tv until we fall asleep.”

That sounds positively divine, but after the ordeal of ignoring Dean during dinner, Castiel doesn’t think he can handle full body contact without it turning into sex.  And he’s keenly aware that Sam and Eileen are on the other side of the wall.  Hotel walls, even _nice_ hotel walls, are thin.  

“I don’t think cuddling is a good idea,” he says regretfully.

“Aw, c’mon, Cas, cuddling is _awesome_.”

Castiel can’t resist tilting his head up and kissing Dean’s pout.  “I agree.  But if we don’t put a little space between us, I’m not going to be able to keep my hands to myself.” He tilts his head toward the wall behind their headboard.  “And we’ve still got a secret to keep.”

This time Dean sighs, and it is definitely upset.  But when he smiles it doesn’t look forced.  “Yeah, you’ve got a point.”

It’s disappointing that Dean didn’t argue harder, but Castiel reminds himself that after this weekend they’ve got all the time in the world to fuck each other’s brains out.  They reluctantly release each other and go about getting ready for bed.  They watch some late night news, but eventually turn it off and shut off the lights.  

Despite the perfect comfort of the mattress, Castiel knows he's not going to fall asleep any time soon.  Not when he can hear Dean's breathing and feel the heat of his body across the small space they put between them when they crawled under the covers.  

He hates those six inches.   _Hates_ them.  He's spent the entirety of his adult life keeping his distance from Dean, and now that he should be able to close that space whenever he wants, he's put himself in a position that requires he maintain it for one more night.

In the grand scheme of things, one night is nothing.  He does a quick mental calculation on how long he's already denied himself.  They met in their freshman year of college, and it's been fifteen years.   _Fifteen.  Years._ Jesus, if their friendship were a kid, they'd be signing it up for driver's ed classes soon.

One night is hardly any time at all.  It's six to eight hours, and he'll sleep through most of it. But now that he knows the texture of Dean's lips, the scratch of his beard stubble between his thighs, and all the parts of Dean's body that are hard and soft under his hands, it feels completely unfair that he should have to wait longer.  Most of his new knowledge is muffled under the haze of too much alcohol on their actual wedding night and he'd really like to refresh his memory.  Plus, this should be their honeymoon.  Ideally they should be fucking until neither of them can walk straight, right?

He kind of hates himself for suggesting they keep their relationship secret.  When he'd made the suggestion he had no idea that he'd be forced to share a bed with Dean while being unable to touch him, and he thinks Past Castiel was an idiot for not considering the possibility.

Past Castiel has been an idiot about a lot of things, most of them having to do with Dean.  Suppressing his desires.  Not telling Dean what was in his heart every time he had a chance.  Giving up hope of anything more between them.  He made one good decision though.  Even if it was out of the blue and spurred by alcohol, accepting Dean's marriage proposal is something he doubts he'll ever regret.

So he keeps his eyes closed, and tries to concentrate on his breathing so that he can eventually fall asleep.  He doesn't know how long he waits, but his ineffective attempts are derailed when Dean lets out a frustrated sigh.

"Fuck this," Dean mutters, just before the bed shifts under him as he rolls toward Castiel and pulls him into his arms.

Dean's mouth searches out Castiel's.  He misses on the first try, his lips sliding over Castiel's cheek, but with a little adjustment of the angle, Castiel assists him with finding his target.  Castiel sighs into the kiss, and his whole body curls into Dean's.  His hands find Dean's belly, half exposed under his t-shirt, and Castiel reaches up under the hem so he can spread his palms over smooth, warm skin.

Castiel whimpers into the kiss and tries to move even closer.

"Shhh," Dean breathes against his lips.  "We gotta be quiet."  His fingers thread into Castiel's hair, tugging until his head is forced back, exposing his throat to Dean's mouth.  He takes advantage of the new position, nibbling across Castiel's Adam's apple and up to his ear.  "Think you can be quiet for me, Cas?"

Castiel holds a needy noise in check behind his teeth when Dean suckles his earlobe.  Dean had figured out pretty fast that Castiel's ears are sensitive, and it's kind of a dick move to tease them with his mouth while expecting Castiel to answer _quietly._

But he presses his lips together and breathes through his nose, and concentrates _very hard_  on keeping the whimpers trapped inside his throat.  While Dean teases Castiel’s ear with his mouth, his hand slips under the waistband of Castiel’s sleep pants and underwear and pushes them down.  Castiel reaches down to help him, wiggling until they’re shoved down to his thighs.  

A tiny whine escapes him when he pushes his hips forward and his dick rubs against the jersey of Dean’s sleep pants.  He can feel Dean’s hardness underneath the soft fabric, and the barrier almost makes the sensation better.

Almost.  And between the two of them, they’re quick to push Dean’s clothes out of the way too.  They’re still wearing their t-shirts, so they’re only bare from belly to mid-thigh, but it’s enough.  Their hips work together, sliding their dicks against each other, precome slicking the way.  

With both of them on their sides, Dean’s arm is pinned beneath them, but his free hand explores under Castiel’s t-shirt, petting and lightly scratching, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his fingers.  Then he finds a nipple, and he pinches and plucks at it until Castiel feels like he’s going to go mad.

Castiel wiggles one arm underneath Dean’s neck so he can hold him closer to his throat, oblivious to the threat of any marks Dean may leave there.  His other hand grasps Dean’s ass, kneading the firm flesh and setting the rhythm of their thrusts.  

The friction and the pressure create a slow burning fire deep in Castiel’s belly, the heat spreading steadily.  Dean’s mouth against his ear and neck sends more sparks through his nerve endings.

“Cas, you gotta be quiet, babe,” Dean murmurs against his ear.

He hadn’t even known he’d been making any noise, but now that Dean has pointed it out, he realizes the keening sound is coming from him.  He chokes it off, but a twist of Dean’s fingers around his nipple coaxes another whine out of him.

“Shhh…” Dean flicks his tongue against the shell of Castiel’s ear.

It doesn’t help.  More sounds are trying to escape him, and he’s _close._   So close.  Dean’s hand slips from under his t-shirt and Castiel’s protesting moan is muffled when Dean’s palm comes down over his mouth.  

Somehow that makes everything worse and better at the same time.  He loses his rhythm, and thrusts frantically against Dean’s belly.  When he hear’s Dean’s breath hitch and feels the warm splash of Dean’s come between them, he makes a muffled sound against Dean’s palm and then he’s coming too.

Dean keeps his mouth covered for much longer than needed, but Castiel likes it.  His breath puffs through his nose, and he pulls in Dean’s scent with every inhale.  When their breathing slows down a little, Dean’s hand finally slips away, only to be replaced by his lips.

The kiss is sweet, and so full of tender affection that Castiel’s eyes prickle with the threat of tears.  “I love you,” he whispers when Dean finally pulls back.

“Love you too, Cas,” Dean murmurs.  Their faces are close enough that Castiel can practically feel him grin, even though he can’t see it in the dark, and especially without his glasses.  “So, after we get cleaned up, how ‘bout some cuddling?”

Castiel chuckles, and thumps his forehead lightly against Dean’s.  “Sounds perfect.”

_***_

Castiel wakes to a mildly suffocated feeling, his body weighed down by too many blankets.  It's only when he shifts to kick them away that he realizes the heavy weight on his chest is Dean's arm, and his legs are trapped by the thigh Dean has thrown across them.  And when Castiel moves, Dean snuggles closer, nuzzling up under Castiel's jaw with a sleepy murmur.

Due to the thick drapes over the windows Castiel opens his eyes to pitch dark, so he has no idea whether it's morning or not, but he's a morning person, so he assumes it's early.  Especially since Dean is still softly snoring in his ear.

Castiel grins into the darkness.  And Dean thinks only Castiel snores.  

Since he's completely pinned, Castiel turns his head on the pillow and squints at the red numbers glowing on the clock.  Without his glasses it's difficult to read, but he thinks the hour is either a five or a six, so it's definitely early.  Probably too early to wake Dean.

Wiggling until Dean loosens his grip, Castiel works himself onto his side.  There's not enough light to see Dean's face, but he can tell they're close because Dean's breath is warm against his face.  He wrinkles his nose at the stale scent, but doesn't move away.

How many times has he seen Dean early in the mornings, bleary eyed and fluffy haired, yawning on his way to the coffee machine?  Hundreds.  Thousands, probably.  They'd roomed together all through college and for several years after.  As the early riser of the two of them, Castiel was usually wide awake to witness Dean's zombie-like shuffle and wookie grunts that probably meant _give me coffee now please._ He's even witnessed Dean waking up.  This isn't the first time they've shared a room.

But until Vegas they'd never shared a bed.  So he's never been this close him, even the few times they've shared the same sleeping space for various reasons.  And a little morning breath isn't going to make him retreat now that he had the opportunity to witness Dean waking up from up close and very personal.

If only it were light enough to see.

He could get up and turn on the lamp, but that's sure to disturb Dean.  Instead he resorts to touch, brushing his fingers over the angles and curves of Dean's face.  He marvels at the change in textures.  Dean's stubble rasps under Castiel's touch, but his lips are soft.  The skin of his cheeks is smooth until Castiel reaches the laugh lines around his eyes.  He lingers there, his heart picking up the beat when he imagines Dean's grinning countenance.

The lines deepen, and the silence is broken by Dean's sleep-rusty voice.  "Am I dreaming?"

"Are you going to ask that every time you wake up with me?"  Despite Castiel's amusement, there's still a touch of uncertainty in his voice.

But Dean's answer warms him.  "Probably.  Been dreaming about it for years, so I might need a little time to get used to the real thing."

Castiel cups his palm to Dean's cheek and presses a feather light kiss against his mouth.  "You're not dreaming."

"Awesome."  The arm around his waist tightens and with a snuffle, Dean settles deeper into his pillow.  His breathing remains deep and even, and Castiel suspects he's going back to sleep.  If he was actually awake in the first place.

He should try to go back to sleep as well, but it's too late.  His bladder is sending desperate messages that he needs to respond to and his brain has already engaged, making him feel more awake by the minute.  Spending a lazy morning in bed with Dean sounds wonderful in theory, but he doesn't think he'll be able to stay still.  Besides, there’s something he wants to do, and he wants Dean to come with him, so he's definitely not staying in bed.

“Dean.”  He shakes his new husband, grinning when Dean responds with a whine before snuggling closer.  “Dean, wake up.”

“I’m ‘wake,” Dean mumbles.

Castiel chuckles.  “Liar.  Come on, I want to do something with you this morning.”

He can feel Dean perk up against him.  “Morning sex?”

If only.  Even after last night's mind blowing grind session Castiel is fucking _thirsty_  for Dean.  But that’s not his goal this morning.  “Something better.”

“What’s better than morning sex?”  He’s still grumbling, but it’s all bluster.  He’s enunciating which means Castiel definitely has his attention and he's waking up for real.

“How about a romantic walk on the beach?”

There’s a moment of silence, making some of the worries that have been plaguing Castiel since Vegas start to whisper in the back of his mind, and then-

"Dude, I’m in!”  And Dean is tossing the blankets back and shoving at Castiel to get out of the bed.  “Come on, let’s get out there while everyone’s asleep.”

The whispers die a quick death and a laugh bubbles up in Castiel’s throat at Dean’s enthusiasm.  He sits up from the bed much slower, watching Dean’s shadow cross the room.  The lights to the bathroom flick on, and Castiel squints against the unexpected brightness.  Dean is a blurry silhouette against the doorway into the smaller room, and Castiel hurries to grab his glasses from the nightstand and put them on so he can see the full glory of sleep-tousled Dean.

They don’t bother with more than pulling on enough clothes to be seen in public and some flip-flops they bought at the hotel store for way too much money.  And once they’re dressed and Castiel has his camera hung around his neck, they hurry out of the room, downstairs, and out the back of hotel.  They cross the grassy area where the hotel’s other wedding party had gathered the day before, now empty of all the chairs and flowers and streamers and looking oddly lonely under the slate gray morning sky, and follow the path through the gardens down to the beach.

It’s early enough that the only people out there are a few joggers taking advantage of the empty sands, but even they are few and far between.  The tide is still low, exposing cement structures that look like they used to be part of a dock, and all the little sea creatures that got caught on them as the waves retreated.

Hand in hand, they walk down to the water, stopping when it laps at their toes.  Off to the south there are some huge boulders, with tidepools at their feet that Castiel wants to visit once there’s a little more light.  But for now, they stand in the cold water and stare out across the gentle waves.

“This was a good idea,” Dean says after several long minutes of leaning onto each other’s shoulders and enjoying the sound of seagulls mingling with the ocean’s music.

Castiel looks up at him, and his breath catches in his throat.  Dean’s hair is still ruffled from sleep, and his beard stubble is even thicker.  The crinkles around his eyes are deep, and his mouth twisted into a soft smile.  And even though he’s always been incredibly attractive, Castiel doesn’t think he’s ever been so beautiful before.  

Dean’s teeth flash.  “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”  He doesn’t even look in Castiel’s direction.

Which is enough of an invitation for Castiel.  He frees his fingers from Dean’s and lifts his camera to snap a picture.  But then he settles it back on his chest, and takes Dean’s hand again.  “Thank you for coming out here with me,” he says just loud enough to be heard over the surf.  

Dean finally looks down at him, one eyebrow hiked high in question.  “Did you think I wouldn’t want to?”

“Well…” Castiel shrugs.  “You’re not much of a morning person.”

“Okay, yeah, you got me there,” Dean acknowledges with a nod and half shrug.  “But there’s no way I would want to miss the chance to do this with you.”  His fingers tighten around Castiel’s.  “I’ve already missed out on so many things.”

A lump rises in Castiel’s throat, and he looks away, clearing his throat.  “We both have.”

“Hey.” Dean turns and wraps his arms loosely around Castiel’s waist.  The camera presses uncomfortably into Castiel’s chest, but he doesn’t want to open up even a millimeter of space between them to ease the discomfort.  Dean’s eyes are dark in the pre-dawn light so Castiel can’t make out the green, but still beautiful.  Always beautiful.  “We’ve got a lifetime to make up for it, right?”

There’s a catch in Dean’s voice that Castiel recognizes.  It’s the same uncertainty he feels when he thinks too hard about how quickly they're moving.  “Absolutely,” he says emphatically.  

A grin lights up Dean’s eyes, and he leans in for a kiss.  It’s awkward with the camera between them, so it doesn’t go past more than a few brushes of their lips together.  And they’re both grinning when they part.

“God, I just can’t get over how good I feel like this,” Dean says on a small laugh.

Castiel cocks his head to the side in question.  “Like what?”

Dean’s arms tighten briefly.  “Like this.  With _you._   Able to just kiss you whenever I want.  It’s fucking amazing, Cas.”

“Yes.  Yes it is,” Castiel agrees.  And because he can, he kisses Dean.  This time there’s a little more to it, because Castiel can’t resist flicking his tongue against Dean’s lips, and Dean nips him back in response.

“Alright, we gotta stop,” Dean says on a sigh as he pulls back.  “Or I might drag you down on the sand and have my way with you, and the last thing I need is to get arrested for public indecency on Sam’s wedding day.”

They’ve been alone on the beach for the last ten minutes, but it’s a valid concern, much to Castiel’s disappointment.  He steps back until Dean’s arms drop from his waist, but catches their fingers together again.  “You’re right.  And then our secret would be out, and we’d have wasted all this time being discreet for nothing.”

“And _that_  would be a tragedy,” Dean agrees with a mournful twist of his lips.

Castiel snorts a laugh, and tugs Dean’s hand in a silent command to follow.  They walk along the beach toward the boulders, and spend the next ten minutes looking for starfish and crabs and other sea critters in the tide pools.  It’s getting bright enough that Castiel is able to snap a few pictures of the brightly colored little microcosms.  

Afterwards they head further inland and find a dry patch of sand near a sandcastle still standing from the day before and sit down next to each other to watch the water inch closer as the sky brightens from dark gray to silver to pale blue.  More joggers rush by, some waving hello, some keeping their eyes straight ahead, and the seagulls grow louder.

“How did we get here, Cas?” Dean says into the comfortable silence.

Castiel glances at Dean, only to get caught by his stare.  He’s smiling softly again, his eyes alight with wonder.  And Castiel loves him so much he aches with it.  The feeling is nothing new, but the freedom to let it show instead of tamping it down and schooling his features makes his heart soar.  But that doesn't mean he's going to forgo a little bit of teasing.

"The freeway," Castiel says with feigned seriousness.  "Mostly I-15."

Dean snorts and rolls his eyes.  "Smartass."

Castiel's serious demeanor cracks, and he grins.  "I could pull up Google maps if you need proof."

Dean bumps their shoulders together.  "That's not what I mean, jackass, and you know it."

"First I'm a smartass, and now a jackass?  Make up your mind."  He laughs and rocks away when Dean bumps against him a little harder, nearly knocking him over.

"You're all of the above," Dean says with a laugh.  Then he snakes an arm around Castiel’s shoulders and pulls him close, and his voice goes low and husky.  “And you know damn well what I mean.”

"Well," Castiel says as he plays with the display settings on his camera, "we got really drunk.  I got talky-"

Dean grins.  "Like you do."

Castiel elbows him lightly for the interruption, but Dean just tightens his hold.  "And I admitted that I love you-"

"Since freshman year," Dean reminds him smugly.

"So you weren't too drunk to remember."

Dean cups Castiel’s face with his spare hand, and Castiel is distinctly aware of Dean’s wedding ring against his skin.  He must have slipped it on while they were getting dressed.  Castiel wishes he’d thought to do the same instead of leaving it tucked in a pouch in his camera bag.  "Definitely not that drunk," Dean murmurs.  "So don't go thinking I didn't mean it when I said I've loved you just as long."

"Then maybe the real question isn't how we got here," Castiel murmurs, watching with fascination the way Dean's pupils widen despite the growing light, "but how come we didn't get here faster."

Dean rocks his head to the side, and looks out across the ocean.  Even in profile, Castiel can tell from his expression that he's giving the question serious thought.  He waits patiently while also considering the path that brought them here, starting on that sunny late summer day when he'd walked into his dorm room to find the green eyed boy that would become the axis of Castiel's life hanging horror movie posters on the wall over his bed, and ending here on the beach in San Diego, many years and miles from that first meeting.

"We were never single at the same time," Dean points out softly.  "Like, ever."

It's not exactly accurate.  They were single when they first met, but Dean was deeply closeted at the time, and Castiel was oblivious to anything besides schoolwork until Dean taught him to relax a little and actually enjoy his time in college instead of burning his candle at both ends in an effort to please his overly demanding parents.  By the time he pried his nose out of his books, Dean was dating Cassie, and hearing Dean constantly wax poetic about a woman who shared Castiel's childhood nickname had driven him into Bartholomew's arms.

After that their relationships were always staggered, never ending at the same time or giving Castiel the opportunity to confess first his crush and later his love.  He wonders now if Dean kept finding someone new to try and get over his feelings for Castiel the same way Castiel always did.  "Our timing _was_ poor, wasn't it?"

Dean's laugh is tinged with bitterness.  "Yeah it was complete shit."

Until recently, though.  "What about the last two years?  Neither of us has been seeing anyone."  After his massive failure with Hannah, and the sad way she'd looked at him when she advised him to tell Dean about his true feelings, Castiel had given up on dating.  And shortly after, Dean and Aaron had ended things.

"Oh that's easy," Dean scoffs.  "I was being a coward."

The admission startles Castiel into laughter.  Dean scowls at him for it at first, but a fond smile quickly overtakes it.  "Come on, Cas.  You think it's easy to just come out with a love confession?  ‘Hey, buddy, it's been thirteen years, but I've had a thing for you this whole time.  Sorry I kept fucking anyone but you.’ _"_

"And what made it easier two more years later?"

Dean shrugs.  "It was Vegas.  There were wedding chapels everywhere.  I didn't think you'd take me serious."  He pins Castiel with a hard stare.  "What's your excuse?"

Even though he spent so long controlling his impulses to touch Dean, it's surprisingly easy to let go of the habit.  He brushes the tips of his fingers under Dean's chin, enjoying the way Dean's eyes droop with pleasure.  "Definitely cowardice," he says.  "But when you told me you loved me and dragged me into a chapel I kind of snapped, and decided being your husband for even a day would be worth the consequences if you changed your mind."

"I ain't gonna change my mind, Cas."  

The words are spoken with complete certainty, and Castiel believes them.  He knows that Dean doesn't toss around the L word lightly, and that his commitment to those he cares about is set in stone.  It's up to those people to reject him, and Castiel would be completely off his rocker to make that kind of mistake.  He's wasted many years with his cowardice.  He won't add idiocy on top of that.

"I know, Dean.  Me either."

Tension drains from Dean's muscles and he smiles again.  "So it's gonna be to death do us part if I remember the vows correctly."

"That's how I remember them," Castiel agrees solemnly.  But because Dean has always inspired the most wicked parts of Castiel's sense of humor, he adds "which shouldn't be a problem any time soon as long as you finally learn to load a dishwasher properly, so I won't be tempted to commit murder."

"Ha!  As long as you learn to separate your colors and whites on laundry day, I won't get you first," Dean counters.

"I don't know," Castiel says.  "If you still insist on watching dubbed kung fu movies instead of turning on the subtitles, this marriage might be over before it gets started."

Dean leans back, eyes wide with offense, hand over his heart.  "Blasphemy!"  And then he breaks into a grin.  "Kung fu movies-" he breaks off, but his mouth still moves, "must always-" more silly mouth movements, "be watched dubbed."  

He continues to lip through fake words, and with an eyeroll and an annoyed groan Castiel cuts off his antics with a kiss.  Dean's eyes sparkle with mischief, and he's grinning like an idiot when Castiel pulls away.  He's scruffy, smells like sex and toothpaste breath, and the smug fucker knows Castiel will let him get away with all his annoying bad habits.  

Castiel tries to be irritated with Dean for being obnoxious and sexy and perfect all in one package, but he fails.  As usual.  He guesses that means this marriage will actually work out.  The only change to their lives will be the sex, and the shared bedroom.

"It's a good thing I love you," he grumbles in concession.

"I’d say it's pretty fuckin' awesome, actually," Dean murmurs, his smile softening and making him even more beautiful to Castiel's admittedly biased senses.  He strokes his knuckles over Castiel's cheek, and holds his gaze.  "The best news of my life."

What is Castiel supposed to do with a confession like that?

Same thing he did in Vegas.  Reward it with a kiss.  

 


	4. Chapter 4

When they finally leave the beach and return to the lobby they find a group of friends loitering in the lobby, everyone bleary-eyed, but excited for the upcoming ceremony.  Dean tucks his left hand in his pocket to hide his ring while they say hello to everyone, then discreetly slips it off when they agree to join the group for breakfast.  He and Castiel stuff themselves on the morning buffet, grinning at each other over their plates.  They may not have gotten to partake of the buffet at the hotel in Vegas, but it probably wouldn’t have lived up to this.

After breakfast they head upstairs to their room and part ways in preparation for the wedding.  It’s not until evening, but there’s a lot to be done to prepare.

In the hours leading up to the wedding, Dean thinks more than once that he and Castiel were smart for skipping all this bullshit and found themselves an Elvis in Vegas instead.  He doesn't even have to do much more than hang out with Sam and make sure he doesn't melt down from nerves, but watching Sam try to hold it together is stressing _Dean_ out.  And he can't even apply alcohol to make things easier for everyone because he's not gonna be that asshole who gets the groom drunk on their wedding day.

Not that it hindered Dean much for his own wedding.

The stray thought has him chuckling, which in turn has Sam zeroing in on him with far more intensity than the moment really deserves.  He pauses in the middle of doing up his shirt and narrows his eyes at Dean.  "What's so funny?"

Dean plasters on a nonchalant mask and shrugs, absently rubbing his knuckles over his freshly shaved cheek.  "Nothing, Sammy."

It's a shit lie, but it's not like he can admit what he was thinking about.  And Sam can see right through it.  His glare intensifies.  "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Enjoying what?"

"Seeing me freak out."

"Alright, maybe a little," Dean admits with a crooked grin.  He shrugs his shirt on and focuses on the buttons, pretending they deserve more attention than his brother's question.  

"Yeah?" Sam fastens the last of his own buttons and snaps up his tie, looping out around his neck.  "I'll remember that when it's your turn."

Dean snorts.  "Don't hold your breath.  I don't plan on doing this wedding shit."

It's not the right thing to say because now Sam is giving him the sad eyes that always make Dean feel like he kicked a puppy.  "Dean.  Don't say that.  Someday you'll find the right person, and marriage won't be scary anymore.  And you'll do all this 'wedding shit' with them if it's what they want."

Unbeknownst to Sam, the cart is firmly before the horse in Dean's case.  But if Castiel wants to renew their vows and do something fancy, Dean sure as hell won't put up a fuss.  He frowns as he plucks his own tie up and fingers the silk.  Castiel helped him pick it out, said the deep red made Dean's eyes pop and it would match the wedding colors Eileen had chosen.

Did he steal this experience from Cas?  He hopes not, and because Sam is _right_ he plans to ask Castiel about it.  

Sam misinterprets his expression as denial.  "I'm serious, Dean."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it."  Dean mumbles.  When Sam opens his mouth, eyes broadcasting his determination to argue, Dean cuts him off.  "Dude, quit dawdling.  Put your damn tie on."

It works to get Sam moving again, but not to stop his needling.  "So... Cas is single right now."

Dean's fingers freeze in the process of knitting his own tie, but he forces them to continue although they move more stiffly.  "So?"

"You're single."

_You're way of the mark,_ Dean thinks smugly.  "Okay?"

"I'm just saying."

"Uh huh," Dean responds flatly.

Sam frowns at his tie, then pulls the knot free and begins to retie it.  "You know you two never seem to be single at the same time?"

"Uh huh," Dean repeats, proud of himself for his acting skills.  He can see where Sam is going with this conversation from a mile away.  

"But you're both single right now."

Dean finishes with his own tie, then grabs his vest and shrugs into it.  "What's your point, Sammy?"

"It's just an interesting observation.  In a, y’know, observationally interesting way.”

Dean rolls his eyes at the nonsensical gibberish, and smacks Sam’s hands away from the mangled knot of his tie.  The kid’s lucky he hasn’t ruined it with his fumbling.  “I swear to god, Sammy, you and Castiel are complete shit and doing your ties.”

The smile Sam gives him can definitely be defined as _shit eating._   “Well you’d better help him with his too before everything gets started.”

Man, he cannot _wait_  to rub Sam’s face in the fact that he and Castiel are already together _and married_.  He slants Sam a glare through his eyelashes, but doesn’t otherwise comment.  With a few sharp tugs he finishes the knot.  Then he smacks Sam on the shoulder.  “There.  I think Eileen will find you presentable now.”

Sam’s teasing grin softens into something sweet and dopey.  “Yeah?”

“Of course, Sammy,” Dean reassures him.  He pulls Sam down into a hug, and maybe his voice gets a little choked up when Sam squeezes him back as if he’s a lifeline.  “I’m real proud of you, y’know?”

“Thanks, Dean,” Sam whispers.

And for a moment it’s just like being kids again, even if Sam does tower over him now.  Sam unsure of himself, and Dean giving him the pep talk he needs to power through the last of his doubts.  He isn’t sure why Sam has always put so much stock in his words, but he’s glad for it.  Sam’s faith always makes Dean feel ten feet tall, and ready to take on the world.

They part with a cough, not quite meeting each other’s eyes.  Sam’s always been the sharing and caring type, but apparently things got a little too heavy even for him.  Probably the nerves getting to him.

“What do you say to a whiskey?” Dean asks gruffly.  He needs one himself, and one little drink isn’t going to get either one of them drunk, right?  Right.

Sam’s eyes are suspiciously shiny, but his grin is bright and toothy.  “I say that sounds like a good idea, right about now.”

“Is your mini fridge stocked?”

“No, I think Mildred stole them this morning when she came to pick up Eileen.”

“Well mine’s full.” Dean rifles through the pockets of his discarded jeans for his room key.  “I’ll be right back, okay?”

When Sam nods and turns back to getting ready, Dean slips out to his own room.  It’s empty, and he feels a twinge of disappointment, although he knew Castiel would likely be gone by now.  He’s probably already snapping pictures somewhere.  Dean probably won’t see him until the ceremony.

Hopefully he manages to get his tie knotted correctly on his own.

It’s not much longer to wait, but to comfort himself Dean grabs three mini bottles from the fridge.  He shoots one down, then takes the other two back to Sam’s room.   

***

Even though the hotel has the grassy area set up specifically for weddings, that’s not where Sam and Eileen are having their ceremony.  The hotel staff helped them set up an awning on the beach, along with chairs for the guests.  The dude who builds fancy sand castles around the beach made one right by the awning, and off to the sides there are several bonfire pits already dug out and stacked with wood for the reception-slash-beach party.  

Everything is in white and red, and Dean is reminded of candy canes, but he likes it.  What he doesn’t like is wearing dress shoes in the sand as he and Sam make their way across it to stand with Donna under the awning to wait for the ceremony to start.  

He really hopes that Eileen is smart enough to not wear heels.

“You boys excited?” Donna asks cheerfully, squeezing a book that looks like a bible against her chest, but Dean suspects is just a prop.

Sam looks lightheaded, but in the walking-on-cloud-nine way, which is good since Dean doesn’t think he’s likely to faint from that any time soon.  That would be embarrassing for everyone.  “Yeah,” Sam breathes.  “I can’t even say how much.”

Donna squeaks happily, and throws her arms around Sam.  “I’m so happy for you!”

Dean rolls his eyes.  “Shouldn’t you save the congratulations until after the wedding?”

She just laughs and slaps him in the arm with her book when she lets Sam go.  Yeah, definitely not a real bible.  Not enough heft.  He’s not sure why she even has it to be honest, since she’s going to need her hands free for signing, but he doesn’t say anything about it.  He’s just there to be supportive and look pretty.

As they wait for everyone to be seated, Dean looks out over the gathered guests.  Jody is sitting with Mildred, smiling proudly at Donna.  Behind them are Bobby and Ellen, heads together, whispering.  He doesn’t see Jo, but a flash of red hair and the tinkle of familiar laughter pulls his attention to where Charlie is sitting near the middle, and there’s Jo right at her side.  

Interesting.  He hopes for both of them that that goes somewhere.

There are many people he doesn’t know, probably a lot of friends and family there for Eileen, and definitely some of Sam’s friends and co-workers that Dean hasn’t met yet.  But many familiar faces fill the seats as well.  Old Rufus in the back.  Ash looking baked as fuck, but almost unrecognizable in his nice clothes.  He sees Jesse and Cesar chatting with Mick who flew all the way from London for the wedding.  Jody's daughter Alex, and Castiel's niece Claire came together - and thank God they decided to fly instead of join Dean and Cas on their road trip because that would have made Vegas _really_ awkward - and they're sitting with Sam's students Max and Alicia.  He's not sure he likes the way the four of them look like they're conspiring over something, but he reins in his instinct to jump in and play father figure.  And shy little Magda is hovering at the back of the crowd, the wind tugging at her long red skirt and the loose sleeves of her white blouse.  She’s probably going to run the message back to Eileen when it’s time to get started before she joins them under the awning as Eileen’s maid of honor.  

And off to the side, he sees Castiel lifting his camera to his face and snapping pictures. From here Dean can see hints of five o'clock shadow even though Cas shaved later in the day than Dean did.  His hair is already messed up, probably from a combination of the light breeze and his own fingers, and he looks breathtaking in his nice clothes.  Dean’s used to seeing him dressed up since he wears a suit for work, because even though he’s an artist, he likes to look professional.  But he’s not wearing a jacket, just his dress shirt and tie - which, yep, looks like it isn't knotted right - under a vest.  He’s not part of the wedding party, but he’d dressed to match them anyway, even down to the red tie and the red handkerchief peeking out of the vest pocket.  

God damn, he’s sexy.  And Dean’s going to fuck him through the mattress tonight.  They won’t even have to be quiet because they plan on telling Sam and Eileen about their own marriage after the reception.  

As if sensing Dean’s gaze, Castiel turns to look at him.  He grins and waves, and Dean returns both gestures.  Then Cas lifts the camera, and snaps a picture of him.  He laughs and takes a second picture when Dean flips his hand around and gives him the middle finger.

He’s so distracted by his husband, that Dean doesn’t realize that Magda has already disappeared to fetch Eileen.  It’s not until the music starts - the wedding march played on an acoustic guitar by one of Sam’s work buddies - that he tears his gaze away from Castiel.  And just like everyone else, he gasps when he sees Eileen.

Her long dark hair is upswept, but still looks a little messy.  Little red and white flowers ring her head like a crown, and her bouquet is a dozen red roses tied together with white ribbon.  Her long sleeveless dress is something lightweight, probably chiffon - Dean will take the fact that he knows what that is to the grave - and it’s white at her shoulders, down to about her thighs, but from there down, it looks like it was dipped in red wine.  It’s a gorgeous dress for a gorgeous woman, and Dean glances at Sam to make sure he knows how lucky he is.

Judging from the slack jawed expression of awe, he knows.

Soon Eileen and Sam are repeating their vows, both out loud and signing the sacred promises as they speak.  Dean gets a little choked up watching the graceful movements of their hands, and he has to look away for a moment.  His eyes find Castiel off to the side, snapping picture after picture.  

In one of the moments where his camera is lowered, he looks at Dean, and if anyone was looking at him instead of Sam and Eileen, there’s no way they could interpret Castiel’s smile as friendly.  If Dean had any doubt that Castiel doesn’t love him, that smile would dispel every single one.

Vision going blurry, Dean lifts one hand where it will be hidden from the audience by his body, but Castiel should be able to see it from where he’s standing.  With his thumb, forefinger, and pinky held out and his middle and ring fingers curled toward his palm, he sends Castiel the same message back.  And he knows exactly when Castiel sees it because somehow his smile becomes even brighter.  

Castiel's lips move without sound.   _I love you, too._

Fuck, Dean is going to cry.  

He turns back to watch his brother and new sister kiss each other to seal their vows, and that's more than he can handle.  The tears slip free, but he's laughing and cheering along with everyone else as Donna introduces them as husband and wife.

With a whoop, Sam sweeps Eileen up into his arms, bridal-style of course, and swings her around in several circles until she's laughing and clinging to his shoulders.  It's cute as fuck.  

Music starts playing and someone lights the bonfires.  Huge coolers of beer are cracked open, and chairs get dragged closer to the fires.  Shoes are kicked off and left in a communal pile, and the party starts.  Dean thinks they must look crazy having a beach party in their wedding finery, but that's definitely half the fun.

At first Dean loses Castiel in the commotion, but a hand on his shoulder brings his attention around to the man at his side.  When he sees Castiel's smile he almost grabs him for a kiss, but manages to resist, just barely.  He can't seem to do anything about his dopey, love-struck smile though.  "Heya, Cas."

Castiel's expression is just as sloppy with affection.  "Hello, Dean."

If anyone is witnessing their epic heart eyes, suspicions are going to abound, but Dean can't rub two fucks together about that right now.  He's not going to announce anything, but he’ll let people think what they want.  And he technically only committed to wait until the wedding is over.  He didn't say diddly squat about waiting till after the reception.  He'll keep his hands to himself for now, but he can't promise that won't change after the alcohol has been flowing for a while.

"I'm going to get some more pictures while I still have this light."  His hand slides from Dean's shoulder down his arm, and he wraps it around Dean's, squeezing it in the shadowed space between them.  "That means you too."

Dean squeezes back.  "Lead the way."

They release each other and join Sam and Eileen who are surrounded by well wishers.  The group lets Castiel steal the newlyweds for more pictures, and Dean gets pulled into a few as well.  

The light is nearly gone when Mildred appears at Castiel’s side as if conjured by witchcraft, and slaps him lightly in the arm.  “Give me that camera, young man, and get in there with everyone else.”

Castiel holds his camera away from her reaching hands, and frowns.  “But I’m not-”

“If you tell me you’re not part of the family, I will find something hard to thump you over the head with, Castiel,” Mildred threatens.  She wiggles her fingers in silent demand for the camera.

“Come on, Cas,” Sam chimes in.  “She’s right, you belong in the pictures too.”

“Yeah, please, Cas?” Eileen adds.

Castiel slants them a look, but only holds his camera further out of Mildred’s reach.

He looks like he’s got a mouth full of lemon juice, and Dean laughs because he knows it’s not because Castiel objects to being in the pictures.  He steps close and gently takes the camera, knowing more than anyone else present what it means that Castiel lets him take it without a fuss.  Castiel is touchy enough about people handling his camera case, but when the camera is actually outside of the protective cushioning, he turns into a vicious mama bear.

“Go stand with Sam and Eileen,” Dean says.  “I’ll take a few pictures.”

He’s not nearly as talented as Castiel, but he’s learned enough from his friend over the years that he’s not a complete slouch.  And Castiel _does_  trust him with his Precious.  

Castiel finally nods agreement, although the tightness of his jaw, and the worried look he gives the camera before he joins Sam and Eileen tells Dean that he’s still reluctant.  Next to Dean, Mildred huffs and crosses her arms over her chest.  “You should be in those pictures too, Dean.”

“Smile, Cas!  You look like the bride’s jilted ex boyfriend,” Dean calls before lifting the camera to focus on the trio.  Quieter, and for Mildred’s benefit, he says “I’ll get in there in a minute when he doesn’t look like he’s going to tackle me to take his Precious back.”

That makes Mildred laugh.  She gets in on some of the pictures at Dean’s direction, but comes back to stand with him when he takes a few more.  When Castiel is finally relaxed and genuinely smiling, Dean lowers the camera and hands it to Mildred.  And before Castiel can object, he dashes across the sand and nearly knocks him over grabbing him around the shoulders and pulling him into a pose.  

“Smile, Castiel,” Dean says through his grin at the camera’s lens.  “The sooner she can take a good picture, the sooner you can have your baby back.”

“I hate you,” Castiel mutters, but he wraps an arm around Dean’s waist and doesn’t object.  

“You love me,” Dean whispers cheerfully.

Castiel snorts, but doesn’t object.

Mildred is merciful and only takes a few pictures.  But she insists on at least one with Castiel and Dean in a picture by themselves before she finally relinquishes the camera.  Her eyes sparkle merrily as she hands it back, and thanks Castiel for being such a good sport and a handsome subject.

“See that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Dean teases.

“It was torture,” Castiel deadpans, but there’s a hint of a smile around his eyes.

Sam and Eileen crowd close.  “Can we see them?” Eileen asks.

Castiel nods and brings up the storage menu for the camera.  His thumbs click through the buttons quickly, and then he’s showing them what he’s got so far.  

“Well there’s no doubt about it,” Dean says solemnly.  “You’re definitely a talented photographer.  I mean, just look at the horrible subject matter you had to deal with.  And somehow you managed to make Sam look handsome.”

Sam punches him in the arm hard enough that Dean gets knocked away by a step.  “Jerk.”

“Don’t be a bitch, Sam,” Dean laughs even as he rubs the ache out of his arm.  “I mean, anyone would look like a troll standing next to someone as gorgeous as Eileen.”

“Flatterer,” Eileen rolls her eyes, but her grin is radiant.  “Keep going.”

“You’re definitely too good for him,” Dean continues.  “I’m not sure why you married so far below yourself.”

Sam’s bitchface is rapidly reaching eleven.  “You’re a dick.”

“That’s why I married him,” Eileen cuts in.  “He’s tall, and he’s proportional.”

Dean and Castiel both groan, but Sam lights up like a damn Christmas tree.  “Thanks, babe.”

She winks up at him.  “Just telling it like it is.”

The teasing goes around a little more before they turn their attention back to Castiel’s camera.  They all have a good laugh at how constipated Castiel looks in a few of the pictures.  He looks like he’s been backed up for a week when he admits that Mildred’s pictures came out really well.

Then he comes to the last picture, and Dean’s heart skips a beat.  In it Castiel is looking right into the camera, but Mildred captured Dean staring at Castiel.

“Awww, look at you two,” Sam says in a sickly sweet coo.  “You look like boyfriends!”

Dean immediately looks at Castiel, and finds him looking right back.  Is now the time to reveal their secret?

“Well we’re not,” Castiel says, making the decision before Dean can.  And it’s not even a lie, since they skipped right past the boyfriend business and got straight down to wedded bliss.  “But I plan on sending a copy of this to my parents to piss them off.”

Sam throws his head back and laughs until he has to rub tears from his eyes.  He shakes his head, grinning.  “Oh, Cas.  You rebel, you.”

Dean throws an arm around Castiel’s shoulder and shakes him slightly.  “He sure is, and that’s what I appreciate about him.”

Castiel lifts one eyebrow in an expression that always makes Dean’s knees go a little weak.  “Is that what you appreciate about me, Dean?”

If he felt free to answer honestly, Dean would make a list.  But he just winks and squeezes Castiel briefly.  “Absolutely.”

A shout near one of the bonfires catches Sam’s attention, and he leads Eileen away to mingle with their other guests, leaving Dean and Castiel by themselves in the growing shadows outside the circle of firelight.  They both look down at the picture.

“I like this one,” Castiel murmurs.

“Me too.  We should print it out and frame it.  Put it on the mantle.” Dean grins.  “It can be our unofficial official wedding photo.  It’s probably better than printing out some of our nude selfies from the wedding night.”

Castiel gives him a wicked look through his lashes.  “I like those pictures _a lot_.”

“Me too, but if we print ‘em out, let’s keep ‘em in the bedroom.”

“Deal.”

They both look down at the camera screen.  It really is a good picture of both of them.  The sky is multi-colored and the last few rays of sun almost make it look like Castiel has a halo.  They do look like a couple, and to Dean’s eyes it’s obvious how hung up on Castiel he is just by looking at his dopey smile.  They’re lucky that Sam and Eileen didn’t put two and two together and accuse them of being together outright instead of just teasing them about it.  But maybe Sam and Eileen are too wrapped up in their own newly wedded status to really notice.

Castiel finally turns the camera’s display off and hangs the strap around his neck.  His fingers brush against Dean’s, but sadly he doesn’t take Dean’s hand.  “Come on, we’re missing out on the party.  And you still have a speech to do.”

“Oh fuck, I do, don’t I?”

Castiel lifts that damn eyebrow again.  Sexy bastard.  “You didn’t forget did you?”

He didn’t forget, but that doesn’t mean he worked on the speech as diligently as he should have.  But he’s the king of winging it, so he doesn’t think it’ll be a problem.  “Nope.  It’s going to be awesome.”

Castiel looks doubtful, but he doesn’t say anything, as he walks at Dean’s side back to guests gathered around the two huge bonfires.  They grab beers, and mingle with friends and family until it’s almost fully dark, and Dean decides it’s time to say his piece.  

He shuts the lid on one of the coolers and gets up on it.  There’s no microphone so he’ll have to use just the strength of his voice, but he knows exactly how to make it carry.  “Hey, everybody, eyes over here!”  

The laughter and chatter dies down, and all eyes turn to him.  He grins, at ease under their stares.  He gives lectures to three times as many people in his classes, so this is nothing.  

“Alright, so I’m the best man and I heard that means I have to make a speech.”  A small cheer goes up, and he laughs at the reaction.  Especially Sam’s pained expression.  “Don’t worry, Sammy, I’m leaving out the worst stuff.”

“Thank god for small favors,” Sam says with an eyeroll which turns into a glare.  He’s signing his words too, and even his hand gestures look mildly annoyed.  “And it’s ‘Sam’.”

More laughter, which Dean joins in on and so does Sam.  Everyone knows that’s an argument the brothers are going to be hashing out for life.  

“Some of y’all know that Sammy and I were short one parent growing up.”  There’s a soft murmur from those who have known them since they were boys.  “And dad was working his ass off to make sure we had a home.  But for a lot of the time, it was just the two of us fending for ourselves.  I’ve been through everything with Sam.  Changing dirty diapers, walking him to school.  Helping him with homework and dragging him to the barber to get his hair cut.  Which, by the way, he’s never liked.”  He gestures at Sammy with his beer bottle.  “I mean, just look at that mop.  If I could just-” with his free hand he gestures motions around the crown of his own head, “-get five minutes with some clippers…”

“Don’t you dare!” Eileen shouts, and again the group dissolves into laughter.

Dean grins at her, and continues his story.  “One time he threw himself on the ground and had just the _mother_  of all tantrums.” He speaks in a falsetto, mimicking Sam’s little boy voice.  “ _You can’t cut it if you can’t reach it, Dean!_   Damn kid was smaller than me at the time, so I definitely won that battle.  And my god, you should have seen the ugly snot crying.”

Sam’s blush is washed out by the fire light, but that doesn’t hide his embarrassment.  And Dean digs in deeper, just because he can.  “And that ugly crying thing followed him into adulthood.”

“I hate you so much right now,” Sam mutters, much to everyone’s amusement.

Dean laughs.  “Don’t worry, Sam.  You’re all grown up now, and big enough that I think you have a chance to actually take me, which is why I didn’t hold you down and attack you with the clippers today.”  He turns a wink in Eileen’s direction.  “Plus I know Eileen could kick my ass if you weren’t up to the task.”

“Damn right,” she announces smugly.

“Y’know how you mentioned earlier how his size is an advantage?” Dean asks her, and her grin turns wicked even as Sam buries his face behind his hands.  “Well not only did he grow into a fine cut of man meat-”

_“Dean!”_  Sam’s shout is muffled by his hands.

“-but he grew into a damn fine person too,” Dean continues.  “Despite the bad hair and the ugly snot crying, Sam is the kind of man I look up to, and not just in the literal sense.  He’s got a good head on his shoulders.  He’s kind, he’s generous.  Smart as all get out.”

Sam lowers his hands, and his eyes are a little shiny.  

“And he’s the kind of man I’d be honored to be friends with if I wasn’t so damn lucky to have him as a brother.” Dean pauses to clear his throat as emotion threatens to crack his voice.  “And I’m glad as hell that he found someone as amazing and strong and brilliant as he is, Eileen.  I’m just as lucky to have you as my sister, and I’m really fucking happy for both of you.”  He loses the battle with his voice on the last word, but he’s almost done anyway so he doesn’t mind.  He raises his beer in a toast.  “You two’ll have many happy years together.  And you both deserve every smile you’ll bring to each other.  Cheers, guys.”

The crowd erupts, and everyone joins in on the toast with whatever beverage they have in their hand.  As Dean presses his beer bottle to his lips, his eyes swing from Sam and Eileen hugging and laughing together to Castiel.  His husband’s proud smile is everything Dean wants and needs in that moment.

Well, except for a serious makeout session, but after tonight the secret will be out, and he can mack on his husband to his heart’s content.  So he can wait a little bit longer.

But he can’t stand not being at Castiel’s side for even another minute.  He hops down from the cooler, opens it to fetch a fresh beer since his current one won’t last much longer, and heads over to sit down in the empty chair next to his husband.

“Hello, Dean.”

He loves that simple greeting.  It never fails to wind up the butterflies in his stomach.  “Heya, Cas.  What did you think of my speech?”

“I think you probably pulled it out of thin air, but it was wonderful and I’m in awe of your oratory talent.”

Dean grins and leans close, speaking so only Castiel can hear.  “Yeah, I know how much you like my ‘oratory talent’.”

Castiel tilts his head thoughtfully.  “I don’t know… I may need more demonstrations to form a proper opinion.”

What a dick.  And Dean loves him for it.  “I’ll give you as many demonstrations as you need, sweetheart.”

Castiel’s expression turns eager.  “I can’t wait.”

Their teasing is interrupted when Donna joins them, soon followed by Jody.  Even though Dean and Castiel keep their seats, people come mingle with them just as much as they do with Sam and Eileen, and they’re kept busy for quite a while.

They’re enjoying a moment of peace between visitors to their little spot near the bonfire when Sam suddenly appears between them, draping his long monkey arms around their shoulders.  “Hey guys!” he greets brightly, his voice a little slurred, probably from the beer Dean can smell on his breath.  “You know what you should totally do, Dean?”

“What’s that, Sammy?”

Sam’s grin sharpens, and he looks far more sober suddenly.  He tilts his head over to a patch of sand between the bonfires where people are dancing to the music provided by a portable stereo.  “You and your husband should go dance.”

It takes a few seconds for his words to sink in and Dean pulls back, so Sam’s face isn’t a blur from being too close.  “My what?”

Sam rolls his eyes so hard, Dean’s almost afraid they’re going to get stuck.  “Oh please, enough with the charade.  I know you two got hitched in Vegas.”

Dean’s gaze snaps to Castiel, meeting blue eyes flared wide behind his glasses.  “You- what makes- how?”

“Dude, you sent me this.”  Sam unhooks his arm from around Dean’s neck and his phone is in his hand.  On the screen Dean sees a crooked, blurry close-up of his own face.  Sam taps the screen, and a video starts to play.

_“Heya, Sammy!”_ Dean’s voice is definitely slurred and sounds funny coming from the phone’s tiny speaker _.  “You are not gonna b’lieve what I did!”_

He’s pushed out of the way by Castiel.   _“I wanna say hello too.”_

_“Gimme a minute, babe.”_  The camera swings off to the side filming people walking past the wedding chapel in the background.  There’s a wet smacking sound and a soft moan, and when Dean glances at his brother, Sam is smirking at him.  Then his voice starts again on the phone, and Dean takes the excuse to avoid his brother’s knowing grin.  

_“Anyway, y’know how you’ve been tellin’ me for years to quit bein’ a fuckup and ask Cas out?  Well I finally manned up, but get this-”_  the camera shifts, and Castiel squeezes into the shot, his face against Dean’s. _“Ok now say hi, Cas.”_

Castiel’s smile is the toothy, wrinkly nosed grin that only comes out when he’s drunk off his ass.  He waves at the camera, and the gold ring on his finger glints under the neon Vegas lights. _“Hiiii!”_

In the video Dean kisses Castiel on the cheek, and they look so happy on the screen that Dean wants to pause it and just stare at the image for a minute so he can recapture the moment that he’s very obviously forgotten.  Because he has zero memory of recording this video message.

_“So get this,”_ Dean repeats after he’s done smooching Castiel.  His eyes are bright with excitement that he still feels even now that he’s sober. _“I kinda popped the question instead, and Cas said yes.  We’re married!”_

_“We’re married!”_ Castiel echoes with a delighted laugh.  

They kiss again, but the camera swings off to the side.  Then everything spins around, and there’s a clattering sound, and then the video cuts off.

The three of them are silent for a moment, staring at the now dark screen of Sam’s phone.

“So,” Sam says.  “I was going to tease you about this as soon as you got here, but you didn’t bring anything up and you weren’t wearing your rings.  But you were still looking at each other like you’re each other’s sun and moon, so I assumed you were keeping it a secret.”

“We didn’t want to steal your thunder,” Dean says weakly.

“It’s your special weekend,” Castiel adds.

Sam’s teasing smile softens, and he hugs them both around the shoulders again.  “That was unnecessary, but very sweet.  Thank you.”  When he loosens his grip, he grins at them.  “But watching you two try and keep your hands to yourself since you got here is the best wedding present ever.  And Eileen getting your room reservation switched from two queens to a king turned out to be the icing on top of a very delicious wedding cake.”

“The hotel staff said it was a booking error,” Castiel says with a huff.

“No, it was a bribe.” Sam laughs at Castiel’s grumbling about dishonest service.  “Chill out, Cas.  If you’d really put up a fuss, they wouldn’t have switched your rooms.  That was part of the deal.”

“The coupon’s for real though, right?” Dean asks.  He _really_  wants that massage.

“Yeah it’s real.  Everyone in the wedding party got one.”

“Good.  We’re using it before we leave.”

Sam laughs again, and puts his phone away.  He straightens and gestures at the dancers again.  “Go on, guys.  Quit hiding, and have some fun.  Anyone who doesn’t know won’t be surprised when they find out, I promise.  You two have been in love for years, and it’s about damn time you’re officially a couple.”

Castiel glares at Sam for a moment before turning to Dean.  “I’m a little bit annoyed that he knew that before I did.”

“Fuckin’ me too,” Dean agrees.  

“You two were practically married already,” Sam says with a dismissive wave.  “You didn’t miss out on much.”

“Sex, Sammy,” Dean protests.  “We missed out on years and years of sex.”

“Well at least you managed to pull your head out of your asses before you’re too old to get it up,” Sam says cheekily.  Then he claps them both on the shoulder.  “Anyway, congratulations guys.  And welcome to the family, Cas.”  And then he takes off in Eileen’s direction.  They watch him grab her around the waist and pull her to the sandy dance area.

Dean looks at Castiel, his eyes dark behind the reflected fire on the lenses of his glasses.  He tilts his head in the direction of the dancers.  “Wanna?”

In answer Castiel grabs his hand and stands, leading Dean towards the sandy dance floor.  The song is upbeat, but perfect for some dirty hip-grinding dancing, which several couples are already engaged in.  Castiel pulls Dean into his arms, and okay yeah he’s taking the lead.  Which Dean is completely cool with.  

“You know, Cas,” Dean says as they start to slide together to the beat of the music, “We’re gonna have to explore this controlling thing you seem to have going on.” He groans a little as Castiel’s hips grind against his own in a way that’s going to make it hard for him to hide how excited he is when he walks away from the dance area.  “I’m thinking we should start with some handcuffs, and maybe a little spanking.”

Castiel narrows the space between their faces until they’re breathing each other’s air.  “I think that’s a very good idea, Dean.”

A piercing whistle next to them breaks their attention away from each other, and they find that they’re surrounded by most of the wedding party.  Everyone is grinning at them, and when Sam shouts “Congratulations on your marriage Dean and Cas!” the crowd goes wild with more whistling and cheering.  There’s so many voices repeating “it’s about time!” that Dean _really_ wants to kick himself for waiting so long to tell Castiel how he feels.

Well he’s corrected that mistake.  And he plans on making up for it for the rest of his life.  He turns to Castiel and pulls him close.  “It is about time, isn’t it.”

“Definitely,” Castiel agrees before leaning in for a kiss.

The roar of approval from their friends and family blends in with the susurration of waves against the sand and crackle of the bonfires.  But all of it together is not nearly as loud as the thunder of his heartbeat in his ears.  Or as pleasant as Castiel’s warm chuckle against his lips.

Thank goodness for Vegas.  And that what happened in Vegas didn’t stay there.  

 


End file.
